There was a rush, but holding the bucket on his lap he
repulsed the assault of those wretches by the mere swinging of his feet.
They flew backwards at every kick, yelling with pain; and the soldiers
laughed, gazing at the window.
"They all laughed, holding their sides, except the sergeant, who was
gloomy and morose. He was afraid the prisoners would rise and break
out--which would have been a bad example. But there was no fear of
that, and I stood myself before the window with my drawn sword. When
sufficiently tamed by the strength of Gaspar Ruiz they came up one by
one, stretching their necks and presenting their lips to the edge of the
bucket which the strong man tilted towards them from his knees with
an extraordinary air of charity, gentleness, and compassion. That
benevolent appearance was of course the effect of his care in not
spilling the water and of his attitude as he sat on the sill; for, if a
man lingered with his lips glued to the rim of the bucket after Gaspar
Ruiz had said 'You have had enough,' there would be no tenderness or
mercy in the shove of the foot which would send him groaning and doubled
up far into the interior of the prison, where he would knock down two
or three others before he fell himself.
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